


On your knees, boy

by pianoforeplay



Category: due South
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-18
Updated: 2011-01-18
Packaged: 2017-10-14 21:03:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pianoforeplay/pseuds/pianoforeplay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Going to church makes Ray horny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	On your knees, boy

Going to church makes Ray horny.

Which is kind of twisted, Ray admits, and if he wasn't already committing the sin of sodomy pretty much on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis, it would surely secure him a fast track, one-way ticket straight to hell.

And he can't really say what it is about going to church that makes him want to hump the nearest thing that walks on two legs and has a pulse, can't say that he's ever really analyzed it or anything. But he guesses it has something to do with the taboo of it, maybe. How the very idea of church (or at least every church _he's_ ever been in) is to repress and sublimate and hide everything under nice clothes and neat and tidy thoughts and ridiculously rhythmless songs that masquerade as 'spiritual.' It's a fairly sound explanation, he thinks. After all, that's probably what attracted him to Fraser. Once he got over the disgustingly pretty face, smooth voice, broad, hard shoulders and tight, round ass. There's a lot to be said about how Ray's desire to get under that nice, clean Mountie uniform and see what kinds of buttons he could _really_ push affected their relationship.

So, that was probably it. And ordinarly, it wasn't an issue. It's not like he and Fraser went to church all that often (usually only for Christmas and Easter and the occasional other random Sunday here and there when Fraser was feeling particularly guilty for whatever reason) and when they did Fraser made it a point of keeping his hand firmly on Ray's knee (and not any higher, thank Christ) during the service and tried not to dally with the greetings and chit-chat afterwards so that he could get Ray home before Ray threatened to blow.

(Of course, this didn't always work since Fraser, being the head of the local RCMP outpost was quite popular with the town folk (particularly those of the female persuasion), was often cornered and doted upon like a prized pig at a 4H competition. And when that happened, Ray would shift and fidget and pray (inappropriately enough) that his screaming hard-on wasn't too visible under his goddamn khaki pants. And if it went on any longer than a few minutes, Ray would shoot Fraser rather unsubtle glares and Fraser would flush and stammer and apologize for not taking Mrs. Bandersnout up on her offer of afternoon tea as they really had to be getting home to tend to Dief just now, thank you kindly. And then Ray would drag Fraser to the truck, his body humming with anger and fucking _need_ and he'd silently grab Fraser's hand just before Fraser could start the ignition and shove it between his legs and order Fraser to break every goddamn speed limit between there and the cabin if he wanted to have sex with Ray ever again.)

But it wasn't something Ray ever really sat down and thought about and it wasn't something he and Fraser ever talked about either. They'd go to church, drive home as quickly as possible, Ray would hobble to the front door and then shove Fraser toward the bedroom, tearing off his and Fraser's clothes along the way. And then he'd fuck Fraser senseless or demand that Fraser fuck him or he'd back Fraser against the door and suck him off like he’d been hungry for it for _hours_ , which, undoubtedly, he had.

Or sometimes they wouldn't even make it to the bedroom, Ray instead shoving Fraser down on the couch or the floor or the kitchen table, bending him over because there was nothing - _nothing_ \- like making Fraser use the Lord's name in vain over and over again in that voice he saved just for Ray. Nothing.

Apprently, however, it was something _Fraser_ had sat down and thought about.

And maybe later Ray would have the presence of mind to ask Fraser just how long he'd been contemplating Ray's kinks, but right now is really not the time Not with Fraser sitting on their bed, casually leaning against the headboard, dressed in full out priest gear, complete with flowing black robe (form-fitted and buttoned around the middle, Ray notices and a high collared shirt with the front bit cut out to show the white band underneath. He has a red beaded rosary draped over his left wrist and hand which is folded neatly with the right and draped comfortably across his lap.

And his feet are bare, Ray notices.

Jesus.

Ray says nothing for a long time, just stands there, his mouth catching flies as all the blood rushes from his brain straight down to his cock. How the hell did Fraser _know_? Because hell, _Ray_ hadn't even fucking known. And even if Fraser had asked, "Hey, Ray, my friend, do you think you might possibly have a clergy fetish?" Ray's answer would have likely been a baffled sort of emphatic no.

But now. Now it's different. Because Ray has never wanted to go to a confessional so badly in his life. And he isn't even fucking _Catholic_.

He's glad that Fraser doesn't seem to be expecting Ray to say anything because Ray's really not sure he can form anything resembling a coherent sentence just now. Fraser just tilts his head, his lips quirked into an amused kind of smile and ordinarily that stupid little grin would make Ray want to pop him one, but right now all it does is make him want to drop to his knees.

Or maybe that's just because his legs are weak and wobbly anyway. Low blood-sugar or something; he hasn't eaten since lunch.

Ray watches as Fraser finally decides to move. His eyes focus on Fraser's bare feet as they hit the floor and then move hesitantly toward him, the hem of the robe just lightly touching the tops of them. Fraser has nice feet. But, hell, Fraser has nice _everything_.

"I trust you approve of the uniform, Ray," he says quietly, kind of darkly and if Ray’s dick could possibly get any harder, it would.

"I, uhm," Ray answers, swallowing hard. "I. Uhm."

Fraser laughs then, but it's warm and doesn't make Ray feel like he's being laughed _at_. Not that he could really even process the difference right now anyway.

He's not sure when it is that Fraser got so close, but suddenly Fraser's very much in his personal space and he's touching Ray's cheek lightly with the hand that has the rosary wrapped around it, a thumb brushing over Ray's jaw. Ray looks up then slowly, his eyes taking in every intricacy of the black robe (somehow Ray knows that it's not actually called a robe, but he can't for life of him recall what it actually _is_ called, not that he'd care anyway) and the collar and Fraser's slightly flushed skin just above it.

Finally, his eyes lock on Fraser's and they have a silent conversation in which Ray asks Fraser how he knew and Fraser tells him he's known for months and has been looking for the right time and Ray asks how he got ahold of the costume or uniform or robe or whatever it is and Fraser doesn't answer because he's pushing his tongue into Ray's mouth and Ray is reaching forward to cling to Fraser's tunic or robe or whatever the fuck it is because if he doesn't have _something_ to hang onto right now, he's gonna fall straight to the floor.

Or maybe falling straight to the floor is what Ray had planned subconsciously anyway because before he knows it, he's on his knees and his hands are scrambling at the coarse fabric. There are way too many buttons, but after spending a couple years getting to know Fraser's tunic somewhat intimately, it's nothing he can't handle.

Soon enough, he's parting the folds, expecting to find a pair of dark trousers to open as well, but instead he finds Fraser's cock, hard and proud and he leans in, his lips wrapping easily around the purpling head as his hand wraps tight around the base. He can hear Fraser's sharp inhale as his mouth slides down easily over him, greedily taking more, his face buried in the dark fabric of the robe as he moves. Fraser's hand is fisting his hair, gripping it tightly as Ray moves his other hand to Fraser's hip, encouraging him to thrust, to fuck his mouth, to just fucking _move_ already.

Luckily, Fraser understands and does just that, his hips immediately snapping forward, almost making Ray gag as Fraser's cock hits the back of his throat. But, he doesn't pull back, instead relaxing his muscles to take him deeper and swallows around him before pulling back to run his tongue along the underside of him.

Inhaling a little, Ray smells the ever familiar musk of Fraser's sweat and sex mixed in with the unfamiliar smell of the dark garment. It smells kind of like moth balls or cedar and Ray distantly wonders again where Fraser found it before Fraser's hand moves from Ray's hair to his shoulders and pushes him away roughly.

" _Ray_ ," Fraser manages with a groan and as Ray, confused, looks up at him, he realizes it's possible it isn't the first time Fraser's tried to get his attention.

Ray frowns a little and opens his mouth to ask what's wrong (Fraser's never complained about his ability to give head before), but he doesn't get the chance as Fraser quickly turns him and shoves him onto the bed. Too shocked to realize what's happening, much less have the sense to struggle, Ray finds himself face first against the mattress, his jeans and underwear stipped down to his ankles and his arms above his head, bound together wrist-to-wrist by the rosary that had previously been wrapped around Fraser's hand. It all happens in less than ten seconds and by the time Ray's aware of what's happened, he feels Fraser's body draping over him and he's so hard he's about to explode.

One of Fraser's hands slips under his shirt and slides up his back to curl tight around his shoulder just as the head of Fraser's dick bumps against his hole and Ray tenses a little. There's no way that Fraser's slick enough from just Ray's mouth, no way it's going to go in smoothly, but somehow it _does_ and Ray's body is falling forward, his bound arms straining to hold himself up as Fraser pushes deep into him. The fabric of Fraser's outfit is somehow scratchy and smooth against Ray's overly sensitive skin, but he hardly registers it and Fraser's cock seems to be hitting every nerve single inside Ray's body with each deep thrust. It's all he can do to keep from passing out.

He's not aware of the sounds he's making, of how he's pleading and begging for Fraser to come, to let go, to let _him_ come. He doesn't hear the gasping, hot murmurs of Fraser's voice above him, repeating his name even as Ray breaks the third commandment over and over and over again. He's aware of nothing but the slick, hard pounding of Fraser's cock deep in his ass and the spikes of pleasure that run through his entire body, making him shudder, making him push back for more, making his arms ache and wrists sting as the beads dig into his skin.

And then he's aware of nothing at all and his vision erupts into a blinding white, his body shaking and thrashing uncontrollably. A second later and he's aware of the pulse and surge of Fraser's dick inside him, still thrusting in short, sharp snaps before there's a rush of hot liquid accompanied by Fraser's low strangled groan. Another second and he slowly realizes that he just came without Fraser ever even _touching_ his cock and that thought almost makes him dizzy all over again.

Ray protests only a little as Fraser slips out of him and he rolls wearily onto his side. His eyes are closed and he can feel Fraser gingerly freeing Ray's wrists and a small smile tugs at his lips.

"Jesus, Fraser," Ray groans after a long moment, the blood rushing to his fingers. His voice sounds a little rougher and more breathless than he'd intended.

He opens his eyes in time to catch Fraser blushing. "Well, not quite, Ray. In fact, I highly doubt Jesus ever committed the act we just participated in." He's still completely dressed and Ray's amazed at how it's _still_ managing to turn him on. "Probably not good for public relations."

Ray tries to supress a giggle as their eyes meet again and he reaches a hand out to lightly touch Fraser's cheek.

"It's hot," he says quietly, his voice low.

"You've no idea," Fraser agrees and it's only then that Ray notices how badly Fraser's sweating under that thing.

Ray pushes himself up to start working at freeing Fraser from the heavy fabric. "Where'd you find this thing anyway?" he asks as he tugs on the buttons.

"Well," Fraser manages after a slight hesitation, "Let's just say that my Uncle Tiberius left me a few interesting articles upon the occasion of his death."

Ray glances up then, his eyebrows raised curiously and when Fraser grins at him, he can't help but laugh. "Freak."

"Must be hereditary."

And Ray has to agree, his fingers getting tangled around a button as he leans forward to give Fraser a warm, open-mouthed kiss. He has a feeling that going to church again anytime soon may be a very, very bad idea.

 **end.**

**Author's Note:**

> Many many thanks to the always lovely bohemian__storm for the quick and dirty beta job and for listening to me whine and moan all day. Any remaining typos and mistakes are all my fault. Initially posted [here](http://community.livejournal.com/stop_drop_porn/13303.html#cutid1) on 6/06/2006.


End file.
